Bemeaning
by redd.Two
Summary: His mental state was skittering sharply askew, only held together by a few threads of common sense. Those too, were beginning to break; just like his body. Thankfully, not his spirit. Not yet.


_Contains mature themes._

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**Bemeaning.**

It was agonizing. Painful. Humiliating.

Death the Kid could have gone on, but his head buzzed so thoroughly with pain that he did not. Pain, did not, in fact, consume just his skull, but all of his body. His wrists were raw and bloody, his ribs cracked and aching, welts covering his back, arms, and legs only just beginning to heal. There were bruises on the insides of his thighs from the nights in which Noah was particularly cruel to him, and his lips were bruised as well.

It was made even worse due to the fact that he hadn't a single set of symmetrical wounds. His mental state was skittering sharply askew, only held together by a few threads of common sense. Those too, were beginning to break; just like his body. Thankfully, not his spirit. Not yet.

Kid had, admittedly, shed tears from the immense torture and shame. When his body had been first violated he had screamed so harshly that his throat had actually begun to bleed, and even then he had continued until a rag was stuffed into his mouth. He hated to admit it, but he was becoming accustomed to Noah's...barbaric sexual nature; his endurance of it had spiked as soon as he had realized nothing would change. After all, three months had passed already since his initial capture.

Nobody would be able to save him. Nobody knew where he was, whom he was with, and how to get him back. Kid had forced himself to bitterly accept that the only one who could get him through this was himself.

His strategy, however, was faltering, and quickly. His body had so drastically weakened he felt it was a miracle he could stand and keep his usual flawless posture. It didn't help that whenever he moved to do so he was quickly reminded of his asymmetrical clothes, torn and bloodied and stained by substances he despised thinking about.

Kid was also consistently haunted by the faces of his friends. Certainly, Liz and Patty, Black Star and Tsubaki, Soul...but Maka, in particular, seemed to invade his thoughts more often than not, and it wasn't because of her potential or the shape of her soul. Noah also spoke often of her; he knew of her possible abilities as well and would often threaten to add her to his "collection." it was at times like these when he felt the most resentful, angry, and hopeless. He couldn't imagine Maka having to go through everything he had. He wouldn't imagine.

It wasn't only his psychological wounds that were grieving him. The torture had steadily grown worse and worse, Noah always managing to pull something new out of his asymmetrical ass to test out on him and then try it a few more times the next day.

For now, most of his sadistic caretakers were sleeping unusually quietly, leaving him alone with his self-destructive thoughts. The bastards could hurt him even while unconscious.

Kid coughed and grimaced as blood flew from his mouth. A little dribbled down onto the left side of his lower lip, and he almost wanted to cry out with despair at the additional asymmetry of it all. Could nothing in this damned place be balanced, perfect, and normal, if not he? Kid's eyes blazed as he glared upon the sleeping back of Noah, and forced at the bonds around his wrists again in hopes they would suddenly falter, powerless. There was no such reaction; Kid let out a strangled gasp as invisible threads cut into his wrists, startling blood into flowing down his aching forearms again. He coughed feebly again, slumping against the cold stone wall.

Death the Kid allowed his eyes to glaze over as a sigh escaped him, tiny and wistful and miserable.

"It seems Hell will have my company for a long while yet."

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My first fic up after a really long time. This account is new but I myself am not, ahaha...I'm afraid of my writing; I don't know whether to like it or resent it. Inspired by chapter 63 because while Death the Kid is a great character, everyone likes characters more when they are physically attractive and are put through unimaginable torture. Also, who doesn't appreciate a little old fashioned angst?


End file.
